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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052791">these accidents of faith and nature</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexZelda/pseuds/PrincexZelda'>PrincexZelda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amara Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Sam Winchester, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Incest, Lucifer Being an Asshole (Supernatural), M/M, Multi, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sibling Incest, Wincestiel - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:07:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexZelda/pseuds/PrincexZelda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, and Castiel are happy with the arrangement they have. Castiel is in a relationship with each brother, independent of each other, and they all coexist within the bunker. However, both Sam and Dean want more - specifically, they want each other. They're just too scared to admit it.</p>
<p>That all changes when Lucifer is released from the cage. He is hell-bent on getting his way - Sam as his perfect vessel.</p>
<p>When Dean and Castiel are faced with a reality where Sam isn't with them, they find that they must work together with the very people they want to avoid.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Sam is trapped in Hell, with Lucifer as his only form of contact...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amara/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: Lucifer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, friends! Welcome to the first Supernatural fic idea I had, courtesy of an old fic I wrote. I will list triggers here as they come up. </p>
<p>Nothing comes up in this chapter/prologue.</p>
<p>I'll be updating this weekly, or as close to weekly as I can.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sammy! Catch!"</p><p>Sam looked up as a beer bottle flew through the air and he reached up to catch it. The cold bottle hit his hand and he wrapped his fingers around it, holding it in place. Dean, grinned from his place perched on the counter. He had a beer bottle in his hands, one wrapped around the neck and the other on the base. Sam stared at it then averted his eyes.</p><p>"That could have broken," he said.</p><p>"I knew you'd catch it," Dean said. "Here."</p><p>He tossed a bottle opener and Sam caught it too. The cap on his beer opened and he took a sip, closing his eyes at the first rush of alcohol over the back of his throat. It burned on its way down, leaving his throat tingling. He opened his eyes again and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.</p><p>"I retrieved the ingredients for the five bean salad," Castiel said, walking into the bunker's main room without so much as a hello. He was wearing his usual trench coat and button down shirt, his hair swept back with what looked like fingers, and the small furrow of wrinkles in between his eyes was in full force. "Only, Sam, you asked me to get six beans, and some kale."</p><p>"Kale?" Dean asked, catching Cas by the waist and drawing him close. Their lips met, and Cas all but melted into it. When Dean pulled away, both of them were flushed. "Sammy, why are you putting <em>kale</em> in my beans?”</p><p>“Because, Dean, it’s salad,” Sam said as Cas crossed over to him. The angel’s forehead smoothed out as he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Salad needs to have at least one green.”</p><p>Cas bent over to kiss him, and Sam parted his lips, letting Cas slip his tongue into Sam's mouth. The angel always tasted like how Sam imagined molecules or lightning would, a feeling more than a taste. This time, he tasted a bit like Dean's beer, too. It tingled down his spine, and Sam pulled away before he could savour it.</p><p>It was an unusual arrangement, dating the same person - being - as his brother, but nothing in their lives was usual. Most of the time, Sam tried to ignore the implications, hiding behind layers of rationality. </p><p>He did so now, straightening and licking his lips to rid the taste of Dean’s beer from his mouth. "Have any trouble at the store?" he asked.</p><p>"Yes," Cas said. "They did not have navy beans. I purchased cannellini beans after one of the grocery clerks helped."</p><p>"God forbid we don't have the right beans," Dean said.</p><p>"I also purchased this," Cas said. He fished out a bright coloured package of gummy worms and tossed it towards Dean "Hopefully this makes up for the fact that you must eat kale."</p><p>Sam sighed, exasperated. "Kale is not the enemy, guys."</p><p>"It tastes like ass." Dean tore off the head of a gummy worm and shook it at Sam. "Don't try and trick me into eating it, either, by calling it 'chips'. Chips are made from potatoes, Sam."</p><p>Sam held up his hands in surrender and stood. He took the bag from Cas' hands, making sure that their fingers touched more than necessary. Cas smiled and went to stand next to Dean, pressing their shoulders together.</p><p>"Dean, you're on sauce duty," Sam said, unpacking the ingredients. "Cas, you're our taste tester."</p><p>"Would that not be a job better suited for one of you?" Cas asked. "You know what food tastes like to me."</p><p>"A mass of molecules," Dean said. "You can tell us if our molecules are out of order."</p><p>Cas pivoted so that he was between Dean's legs, hands on either side of him. Cas' fingers were splayed on the counter, and he leaned forward to kiss Dean. Almost immediately the kiss deepened, Dean tilting his head back and moaning. Cas moved his hands up Dean's sides and rested them on his head, tugging at his short hair. They were pressed together, and when Cas pulled away, they lingered with their foreheads touching and dazed smiles on their lips.</p><p>"Your molecules seem perfectly arranged to me," Cas said.</p><p>Next to Sam, the bag of cannellini beans began to shake, harder and harder, before bursting into a shower of steaming mush. Dean flinched back, and Cas lifted a hand. The rain of beans subsided, and there was one sticking to Cas' hair, just above his forehead. Dean had a few on his face, and Sam could feel some dislodge from his hair as he shook his head.</p><p>"What the fuck was that?" Dean asked, staring at the now empty and melted plastic bag.</p><p>"Um," Sam said. "Cas, did you-"</p><p>"No," Cas said, then frowned. "Well, maybe." He hesitated, reluctant. "I suppose that it may have been a subconscious reaction to the intensity of our kiss, Dean. I apologise."</p><p>"Nah," Dean said, grinning. "If I can inspire an angel to lose his cool with one kiss, then I've still got it." He swung down from the counter and grabbed Cas' hand, pulling him out of the room. "Come on, let's go find a broom."</p><p>Sam watched as the two of them left, talking in a low murmur. He breathed out, running his hands through his hair once. Beans that were tangled up in his hair fell to the floor and he grimaced. The melted plastic bag sat on the counter, mocking him. </p><p>For the last few days, he was seeing his old powers returning. First it was just dreams, nightmares really. A cage, glowing red eyes, and screaming. Then it was things moving towards him when he thought of them. Nothing too concerning, just if he wanted a pencil that was out of reach, it would move close enough for his fingertips to graze. Or if he wanted to turn the page of a book, or type in a search, the page would turn without being touched and the keys would move on their own.</p><p>It made Sam think of copper on his tongue, a crimson nectar that was thick and sweet. When he ate, it was the taste that lingered in his mouth. When he drank, he remembered the way blood felt as it slid down his throat. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, and see Ruby sleeping next to him instead of Cas. And, always, behind his eyelids every time he blinked was the sight of Lucifer, wearing his skin and standing over the bodies of all the people he considered friends.</p><p>They were powers that he never wanted in the first place, powers he thought were gone for six years. That they were coming back sent a small shiver of fear down his spine. He thought of asking Crowley to check in on the cage, just to make sure that Lucifer was still locked away. Scoffing, he shook his head and rested his head against the cool metal door. Crowley would mock him, and rightly so. Lucifer was trapped, and there was no way for him to get out. Not now, and not ever.</p><p>It didn't help that they seemed tied to his emotional state. He could admit that, of late, it wasn't the most stable. The beans exploded into a scalding, mushy mess because he was jealous of how close Cas and Dean were to each other and of their lingering touches. He imagined what it would feel like to be Cas, slotted in between Dean's legs, hands on Dean's head-</p><p>It was too much to think of too quickly, and he looked around him in dismay. The beans were all over the kitchen, splattered across the ceiling and the floor. Sam glanced towards the door, straining to hear Cas and Dean. When he didn't, he swept his fingers in an arc, just to see what would happen.</p><p>All of the mess gathered itself into a pile, quivering as if terrified of him. Sam glanced at the garbage and the beans launched themselves into it. The lid closed with a snap. It rang in the silence, and Sam sighed.</p><p>He turned around to see Dean and Cas standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a broom and dustpan in their hands. Dean looked shocked, concerned, and angry all at once. His expression shuttered and he turned and left the room without a word.</p><p>"Dean, wait," Sam said, starting after him. </p><p>Cas put a hand on his chest and held him in place. Dean rounded the corner and was gone. Sam's shoulders slumped and he exhaled. </p><p>"You have to give him a chance to understand what he saw," Cas said, his voice gentle. "It's been six years since you last used your powers. We all thought they were gone."</p><p>"I haven't had any demon blood," Sam said.</p><p>"I know that, Sam," Cas said, cupping Sam's cheek. "And Dean knows that too. He's scared for you. As am I. We never quite understood what Azazel's blood inside of you meant, other than trying to shape you to be Lucifer's-"</p><p>Sam jerked away. "No," he said. His throat tightened and he could hear his blood roaring in his ears. "Cas, no. This - this isn't <em>him</em>, okay. It's just - it's nothing, and I can handle it. I just need a little time, that's all."</p><p>"Sam, I am not upset with you," Cas said, reaching out to grip Sam by the shoulders. "Whatever has brought your powers back, we can defeat it."</p><p>Sam glanced up again, hoping to see Dean coming back. The hallway was empty save for him and Cas. Guilt and fear swelled in his gut, and he shook his head. Cas was right. </p><p>If something was going to happen, it was better if they were all together.</p><p>"Yeah," he said. "I should talk to him, right? Try and explain?"</p><p>Cas frowned and looked over his shoulder. "Let me talk to him," he said. "I think he just needs some space to process this. When he's ready, I'll send him to you."</p><p>Sam could only nod. Cas smiled, a fleeting smile, before turning to follow Dean. Sam stood alone, staring after them, doubt beginning to seed in his mind. The last time he had these powers, Dean called him a monster that anyone would hunt. Including him. Especially him.</p><p>Sam turned to what was meant to be their celebratory dinner and put everything back in their place. This, at least, he could control, if nothing else.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>Sam sat in his room, clicking aimlessly on the computer. He was researching a case, or trying to. The supernatural world was quiet. All of the monsters in the world were going underground, hiding from the Darkness. Sam chewed on his lower lip. It meant less work, which meant less death. But it was a worrying thought, that there was something so terrifying that even the scariest monsters were in hiding.</p><p>"Sammy."</p><p>Sam turned his head, staring at Dean in the doorway. The light from the hall illuminated his dusty brown hair until it looked like gold. Sam turned in his chair and gestured towards the bed. Dean glanced over at it, and then sat, putting his hands on his knees.</p><p>"I was doing some research," Sam said. "Trying to find any sign of a case."</p><p>Dean’s nostrils flared. "You know that's not what I want to talk about," he said. After a pause, he exhaled. "Did you find anything?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"How long have you had your powers back?" Dean asked, twisting his hands. "And why didn't you tell me?"</p><p>"I didn't want to worry you," Sam said. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his feet. "Maybe it's a good thing.”</p><p>“Do you really think that, Sam?”</p><p>Sam took a proper look at him. He seemed worn, burdened, and Sam sat beside him on the bed. Dean didn't move over, but he didn't move away either. It was a small victory, but Sam was taking them wherever he could. He waited for Dean to speak, staring straight ahead at the wall.</p><p>Dean stood and began to pace. "Can't we have a break? Just, for once, be happy?"</p><p>"We are happy," Sam said. "Together. We're a family."</p><p>"But the universe keeps throwing this shit at us, man. I'm tired of it." </p><p>"I know, Dean." Sam held up his hands. Behind Dean, a picture frame floated, and Sam lowered his hands. "What are we supposed to do, though? Not function? Or, worse, give up?"</p><p>"Giving up was never really an option," Dean said, grabbing the frame and placing it back on the dresser. "But sometimes, Sammy, I really wish we could."</p><p>He squared his jaw and held out his hand. Sam took it, lifting himself off the bed. Dean pulled him into a hug, burying his head into the junction of Sam's neck and shoulder. Sam hesitated before putting his arms around Dean. </p><p>They fit together.</p><p>"I'm not going through that again," Dean said. "I'm not watching you go down that path. I can't, Sammy, so promise me. Promise me you won't."</p><p>"Okay, Dean," Sam said, running a hand through his hair. "I won't put you through that again. But you can't give up either, okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, Sam," Dean said. "Hey. Will you. Cas got some burgers, and a salad for you. Will you come stay the night in my room, with us?"</p><p>His tone was hopeful, his expression open for the first time since Sam could remember. Sam's heart skipped a beat; Dean wanted him. Dean wanted him to come stay with them, to be with them. The intensity of Sam's own desire to be with Dean frightened him. He shook his head and stepped away, breaking their contact.</p><p>"I shouldn't," he said. "I should keep a lookout for any activity. Maybe we'll get lucky."</p><p>Dean nodded, looking away from him. "Yeah," he said, his voice soft. "Let us know when you find something."</p><p>He left, and Sam was alone again. With a sigh, he settled into the chair and started flicking through the different news sites. Something would break. It had to, because otherwise, they were sitting and waiting for the fight to be brought to them. Sam wasn't going to let anyone hurt what he and Dean built together. Nothing.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>
  <em>It was like a dream. Sam opened his eyes, his cheek pillowed on his keyboard. There was a crick in his back from leaning over, and he grunted. It was a familiar position, and he closed his eyes again, seeking the relief of sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sh,” a voice said, grey and comforting. Warm hands stroked his hair and back, and Sam exhaled into the touch. “You really need to take better care of yourself, Sammy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a breath on his cheek, the lightest graze of lips. Sam smiled, imagining warm green eyes and light brown hair. The hand carding through his hair stilled at the back of his neck. Something cold rested there, and Sam shifted, frowning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sleep,” the voice said, and it was a command that reverberated throughout Sam’s very soul. “Don’t worry about a thing, Sam. I’m going to take very, very good care of you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And with that, sleep claimed him again, wrapping him in an embrace like they were old friends. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One: Sam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He left, and Sam was alone again. With a sigh, he settled into the chair and started flicking through the different news sites. Something would break. It had to, because otherwise, they were sitting and waiting for the fight to be brought to them. Sam wasn't going to let anyone hurt what he and Dean built together. Not the Darkness, and not the Devil, either.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No triggers in this chapter! Please ask to tag/warn for anything &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sammy! Catch!"</p><p>Sam looked up as a beer bottle flew through the air and he reached up to catch it. The cold bottle hit his hand and he wrapped his fingers around it, holding it in place. Dean, grinned from his place perched on the counter. He had a beer bottle in his hands, one wrapped around the neck and the other on the base. Sam stared at it then averted his eyes.</p><p>"That could have broken," he said.</p><p>"I knew you'd catch it," Dean said. "Here."</p><p>He tossed a bottle opener and Sam caught it too. The cap on his beer opened and he took a sip, closing his eyes at the first rush of alcohol over the back of his throat. It burned on its way down, leaving his throat tingling. He opened his eyes again and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.</p><p>"I retrieved the ingredients for the five bean salad," Castiel said, walking into the bunker's main room without so much as a hello. He was wearing his usual trench coat and button down shirt, his hair swept back with what looked like fingers, and the small furrow of wrinkles in between his eyes was in full force. "Only, Sam, you asked me to get six beans, and some kale."</p><p>"Kale?" Dean asked, catching Cas by the waist and drawing him close. Their lips met, and Cas all but melted into it. When Dean pulled away, both of them were flushed. "Sammy, why are you putting <em>kale</em> in my beans?”</p><p>“Because, Dean, it’s salad,” Sam said as Cas crossed over to him. The angel’s forehead smoothed out as he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Salad needs to have at least one green.”</p><p>Cas bent over to kiss him, and Sam parted his lips, letting Cas slip his tongue into Sam's mouth. The angel always tasted like how Sam imagined molecules or lightning would, a feeling more than a taste. This time, he tasted a bit like Dean's beer, too. It tingled down his spine, and Sam pulled away before he could savour it.</p><p>It was an unusual arrangement, dating the same person - being - as his brother, but nothing in their lives was usual. Most of the time, Sam tried to ignore the implications, hiding behind layers of rationality. </p><p>He did so now, straightening and licking his lips to rid the taste of Dean’s beer from his mouth. "Have any trouble at the store?" he asked.</p><p>"Yes," Cas said. "They did not have navy beans. I purchased cannellini beans after one of the grocery clerks helped."</p><p>"God forbid we don't have the right beans," Dean said.</p><p>"I also purchased this," Cas said. He fished out a bright coloured package of gummy worms and tossed it towards Dean "Hopefully this makes up for the fact that you must eat kale."</p><p>Sam sighed, exasperated. "Kale is not the enemy, guys."</p><p>"It tastes like ass." Dean tore off the head of a gummy worm and shook it at Sam. "Don't try and trick me into eating it, either, by calling it 'chips'. Chips are made from potatoes, Sam."</p><p>Sam held up his hands in surrender and stood. He took the bag from Cas' hands, making sure that their fingers touched more than necessary. Cas smiled and went to stand next to Dean, pressing their shoulders together.</p><p>"Dean, you're on sauce duty," Sam said, unpacking the ingredients. "Cas, you're our taste tester."</p><p>"Would that not be a job better suited for one of you?" Cas asked. "You know what food tastes like to me."</p><p>"A mass of molecules," Dean said. "You can tell us if our molecules are out of order."</p><p>Cas pivoted so that he was between Dean's legs, hands on either side of him. Cas' fingers were splayed on the counter, and he leaned forward to kiss Dean. Almost immediately the kiss deepened, Dean tilting his head back and moaning. Cas moved his hands up Dean's sides and rested them on his head, tugging at his short hair. They were pressed together, and when Cas pulled away, they lingered with their foreheads touching and dazed smiles on their lips.</p><p>"Your molecules seem perfectly arranged to me," Cas said.</p><p>Next to Sam, the bag of cannellini beans began to shake, harder and harder, before bursting into a shower of steaming mush. Dean flinched back, and Cas lifted a hand. The rain of beans subsided, and there was one sticking to Cas' hair, just above his forehead. Dean had a few on his face, and Sam could feel some dislodge from his hair as he shook his head.</p><p>"What the fuck was that?" Dean asked, staring at the now empty and melted plastic bag.</p><p>"Um," Sam said. "Cas, did you-"</p><p>"No," Cas said, then frowned. "Well, maybe." He hesitated, reluctant. "I suppose that it may have been a subconscious reaction to the intensity of our kiss, Dean. I apologise."</p><p>"Nah," Dean said, grinning. "If I can inspire an angel to lose his cool with one kiss, then I've still got it." He swung down from the counter and grabbed Cas' hand, pulling him out of the room. "Come on, let's go find a broom."</p><p>Sam watched as the two of them left, talking in a low murmur. He breathed out, running his hands through his hair once. Beans that were tangled up in his hair fell to the floor and he grimaced. The melted plastic bag sat on the counter, mocking him. </p><p>For the last few days, he was seeing his old powers returning. First it was just dreams, nightmares really. A cage, glowing red eyes, and screaming. Then it was things moving towards him when he thought of them. Nothing too concerning, just if he wanted a pencil that was out of reach, it would move close enough for his fingertips to graze. Or if he wanted to turn the page of a book, or type in a search, the page would turn without being touched and the keys would move on their own.</p><p>It made Sam think of copper on his tongue, a crimson nectar that was thick and sweet. When he ate, it was the taste that lingered in his mouth. When he drank, he remembered the way blood felt as it slid down his throat. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, and see Ruby sleeping next to him instead of Cas. And, always, behind his eyelids every time he blinked was the sight of Lucifer, wearing his skin and standing over the bodies of all the people he considered friends.</p><p>They were powers that he never wanted in the first place, powers he thought were gone for six years. That they were coming back sent a small shiver of fear down his spine. He thought of asking Crowley to check in on the cage, just to make sure that Lucifer was still locked away. Scoffing, he shook his head and rested his head against the cool metal door. Crowley would mock him, and rightly so. Lucifer was trapped, and there was no way for him to get out. Not now, and not ever.</p><p>It didn't help that they seemed tied to his emotional state. He could admit that, of late, it wasn't the most stable. The beans exploded into a scalding, mushy mess because he was jealous of how close Cas and Dean were to each other and of their lingering touches. He imagined what it would feel like to be Cas, slotted in between Dean's legs, hands on Dean's head-</p><p>It was too much to think of too quickly, and he looked around him in dismay. The beans were all over the kitchen, splattered across the ceiling and the floor. Sam glanced towards the door, straining to hear Cas and Dean. When he didn't, he swept his fingers in an arc, just to see what would happen.</p><p>All of the mess gathered itself into a pile, quivering as if terrified of him. Sam glanced at the garbage and the beans launched themselves into it. The lid closed with a snap. It rang in the silence, and Sam sighed.</p><p>He turned around to see Dean and Cas standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a broom and dustpan in their hands. Dean looked shocked, concerned, and angry all at once. His expression shuttered and he turned and left the room without a word.</p><p>"Dean, wait," Sam said, starting after him. </p><p>Cas put a hand on his chest and held him in place. Dean rounded the corner and was gone. Sam's shoulders slumped and he exhaled. </p><p>"You have to give him a chance to understand what he saw," Cas said, his voice gentle. "It's been six years since you last used your powers. We all thought they were gone."</p><p>"I haven't had any demon blood," Sam said.</p><p>"I know that, Sam," Cas said, cupping Sam's cheek. "And Dean knows that too. He's scared for you. As am I. We never quite understood what Azazel's blood inside of you meant, other than trying to shape you to be Lucifer's-"</p><p>Sam jerked away. "No," he said. His throat tightened and he could hear his blood roaring in his ears. "Cas, no. This - this isn't <em>him</em>, okay. It's just - it's nothing, and I can handle it. I just need a little time, that's all."</p><p>"Sam, I am not upset with you," Cas said, reaching out to grip Sam by the shoulders. "Whatever has brought your powers back, we can defeat it."</p><p>Sam glanced up again, hoping to see Dean coming back. The hallway was empty save for him and Cas. Guilt and fear swelled in his gut, and he shook his head. Cas was right. </p><p>If something was going to happen, it was better if they were all together.</p><p>"Yeah," he said. "I should talk to him, right? Try and explain?"</p><p>Cas frowned and looked over his shoulder. "Let me talk to him," he said. "I think he just needs some space to process this. When he's ready, I'll send him to you."</p><p>Sam could only nod. Cas smiled, a fleeting smile, before turning to follow Dean. Sam stood alone, staring after them, doubt beginning to seed in his mind. The last time he had these powers, Dean called him a monster that anyone would hunt. Including him. Especially him.</p><p>Sam turned to what was meant to be their celebratory dinner and put everything back in their place. This, at least, he could control, if nothing else.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>Sam sat in his room, clicking aimlessly on the computer. He was researching a case, or trying to. Ever since Amara was unleashed, the supernatural world was quiet. All of the monsters in the world were going underground, hiding from the Darkness. Sam chewed on his lower lip. It meant less work, which meant less death. But it was a worrying thought, that Amara was so terrifying that even the scariest monsters were in hiding.</p><p>And she wanted Dean. If there was one thing that Sam knew, it was that he wouldn't let her take him. He flicked his fingers and the browser went back to the news site. </p><p>"Sammy."</p><p>Sam turned his head, staring at Dean in the doorway. The light from the hall illuminated his dusty brown hair until it looked like gold. Sam turned in his chair and gestured towards the bed. Dean glanced over at it, and then sat, putting his hands on his knees.</p><p>"I was doing some research," Sam said. "Trying to find any sign of Amara."</p><p>Dean didn't flinch, but his nostrils flared. "You know that's not what I want to talk about," he said. After a pause, he exhaled. "Did you find anything?"</p><p>"No. Which is kind of a sign, right? I mean, Amara, she's driving all the monsters away," Sam said. "Is she doing it for you, do you think?"</p><p>"No, I don't think so. How long have you had your powers back?" Dean asked, twisting his hands. "And why didn't you tell me?"</p><p>"I didn't want to worry you," Sam said. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his feet. "Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe they came back because Amara is here, and is threatening you."</p><p>Dean scoffed. "If Amara being alive means that your powers are coming back, are they related to the darkness?"</p><p>"No. Maybe. I don't know." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are you saying?"</p><p>"That Amara brought back your powers to get to me," Dean said. </p><p>Sam took a proper look at him. He seemed worn, burdened, and Sam sat beside him on the bed. Dean didn't move over, but he didn't move away either. It was a small victory, but Sam was taking them wherever he could. He waited for Dean to speak, staring straight ahead at the wall.</p><p>"I don't know, man," Dean said. "When we had Rowena take off the mark, I thought that was it, you know. We killed Death, we bested fate, and now we released the damn end of the world. Again. Why is it always us, you know? Lucifer, Amara. It always comes down to us."</p><p>He stood and began to pace. "Can't we have a break? Just, for once, be happy?"</p><p>"We are happy," Sam said. "Together. We're a family."</p><p>"But the universe keeps throwing this shit at us, man. I'm tired of it." </p><p>"I know, Dean." Sam held up his hands. Behind Dean, a picture frame floated, and Sam lowered his hands. "What are we supposed to do, though? Not function? Or, worse, give up?"</p><p>"Giving up was never really an option," Dean said, grabbing the frame and placing it back on the dresser. "But sometimes, Sammy, I really wish we could."</p><p>He squared his jaw and held out his hand. Sam took it, lifting himself off the bed. Dean pulled him into a hug, burying his head into the junction of Sam's neck and shoulder. Sam hesitated before putting his arms around Dean. </p><p>They fit together.</p><p>"She wants me, Sam," Dean admitted. "When I met her, she said that we were bonded. That <em>I</em> freed her. She wants me to join her, to become one with her."</p><p>"I know," Sam said. "I know how that feels. Lu - he wanted the same thing. To be one with me." He rested his chin on Dean's head. "We're not gonna let that happen Dean, okay? I promise."</p><p>"Don't use your powers to do it, though," Dean said. He pulled away and held Sam out at arm's length. "Okay?"</p><p>Sam's lips twitched upward. "Dean-"</p><p>"I'm not going through that again," Dean said. "I'm not watching you go down that path. I can't, Sammy, so promise me. Promise me you won't."</p><p>"Okay, Dean," Sam said, running a hand through his hair. "I won't put you through that again. But you can't give up either, okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, Sam," Dean said. "Hey. Will you. Cas got some burgers, and a salad for you. Will you come stay the night in my room, with us?"</p><p>His tone was hopeful, his expression open for the first time since Sam could remember. Sam's heart skipped a beat; Dean wanted him. Dean wanted him to come stay with them, to be with them. The intensity of Sam's own desire to be with Dean frightened him. He shook his head and stepped away, breaking their contact.</p><p>"I shouldn't," he said. "I should keep a lookout for any activity. Maybe we'll get lucky."</p><p>Dean nodded, looking away from him. "Yeah," he said, his voice soft. "Let us know when you find something."</p><p>He left, and Sam was alone again. With a sigh, he settled into the chair and started flicking through the different news sites. Something would break. It had to, because otherwise, they were sitting and waiting for the fight to be brought to them. Sam wasn't going to let anyone hurt what he and Dean built together. Not the Darkness, and not the Devil, either.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>
  <em>It was like a dream. Sam opened his eyes, his cheek pillowed on his keyboard. There was a crick in his back from leaning over, and he grunted. It was a familiar position, and he closed his eyes again, seeking the relief of sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sh,” a voice said, grey and comforting. Warm hands stroked his hair and back, and Sam exhaled into the touch. “You really need to take better care of yourself, Sammy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a breath on his cheek, the lightest graze of lips. Sam smiled, imagining warm blue eyes and dark hair. The hand carding through his hair stilled at the back of his neck. Something cold rested there, and Sam shifted, frowning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sleep,” the voice said, and it was a command that reverberated throughout Sam’s very soul. “Don’t worry about a thing, Sam. I’m going to take very, very good care of you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And with that, sleep claimed him again, wrapping him in an embrace like they were old friends.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the lateness on this, I was away! But next week will be different.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2: Dean</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean and Castiel find out that Sam is missing, and Dean receives a message.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for: mentions of incest, and how it is often related to familial abuse.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean was slow to wake up, clinging to the comforting nothingness of sleep. Light burned behind his eyelids and he grunted, squeezing them shut. It blocked it out for the time being, and he relaxed. There was a weight along his upper arm, not quite pinning him in place, and he could feel breaths along the back of his neck.</p><p>Dean would never say it, but being wrapped in Castiel’s arms was one of his chief comforts. The angel was always warm, like a blanket. He could imagine the slight tickle of feathers on his cheek, and it would bring a smile to his face. Cas insisted on being the one to hold Dean close, either back to chest or chest to chest. This morning was no exception.</p><p>Dean turned into the embrace, nuzzling under Cas’ chin. “Hey, Cas,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep. “How’d I sleep?”</p><p>"Well," Cas said, kissing Dean's nose. "I eased you through any nightmares that you were experiencing."</p><p>"How many were there?"</p><p>Cas carded his hand through Dean's hair once, fingers splayed wide. "A few. Less than usual."</p><p>Dean pressed a kiss to the hollow of Cas' throat before sitting upright. The sheets fell to his waist, and he saw Cas run a glance down his bare chest. Dean smirked and leaned forward to kiss him, tongue swiping Cas' lower lip before pulling away.</p><p>"I don't think we have time for a quicky," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Unless you want to risk Sammy making that awful vegetable bacon."</p><p>"You know I don't need to eat," Cas said, grinning.</p><p>"Could've fooled me, the way you eat me out."</p><p>Cas growled, pinning Dean to the bed by his shoulders. "Maybe if you were not so edible."</p><p>It took them another hour to extricate themselves from the bed. Dean considered it an hour well spent. His muscles were deliciously sore as he made his way into the kitchen, wearing his robe and little else, expecting to be hit by the smell of coffee and bacon. Instead, it was cold and lifeless. The coffee machine was empty and turned off. All of the pans were clean and put away. </p><p>Cas walked into the kitchen, his usual trench coat hanging loose from his frame. He was wearing another suit of his near endless supply. Dean poured out some coffee grounds and set up the machine.</p><p>"Did you see Sam at all?" Dean asked. "It's kinda late for him to be still asleep."</p><p>"I didn't," Cas admitted. "But perhaps he has gone for a run. He often does, this early in the morning."</p><p>"True." Dean took out a donut from his secret stash and offered half to Cas. As always, the angel accepted with a small smile that told Dean it was a wasted gesture. "Hey, can I ask you a weird question?"</p><p>"Of course," Cas said, biting into the donut. There was a smear of powdered sugar on his upper lip, and Dean gathered it with his finger.</p><p>"What's it like?" he said, licking the sugar away. </p><p>"What is what like?"</p><p>"You know." Dean made a gesture, poured himself a coffee. "Dating us both. Even though we're related."</p><p>Understanding passed over Cas' face. "You want to know if I think it’s strange."</p><p>Dean clamped his mouth shut. He could only nod as he poured Cas coffee. Cas wrapped his hands around the mug and thought, his eyes glazing over for a moment.</p><p>"I admit, it is quite strange," he said. "Angels were not built with the capacity for romantic love, or sexual attraction. Those of us who engage in either have learned it from humanity. Gabriel was always the exception, it seemed, but he was the closest to humanity from the start. </p><p>"I was created by my father to be a soldier, and yet when I am with you and Sam, I find that I am less of a soldier and more of a lover, as they say."</p><p>Dean smiled. "It's 'I'm a lover, not a fighter.'"</p><p>Cas blinked once, staring at Dean with round eyes. "Is that not what I said?"</p><p>"It is, it is," Dean said, putting up his hands. "But that wasn't what I asked. I wanted to know if you found it weird that we're brothers dating the same person."</p><p>"Do you?" Cas asked.</p><p>"Well, yeah," Dean said. "Why don't you?"</p><p>Cas shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I view all of humanity as my father's children. We are all made from Him. In that way, we are all related."</p><p>"So you would have no issues dating another angel?"</p><p>"I had the opportunity, when Hannah was still alive," Cas said. "But even at the time, I only had eyes for you and Sam." He took a sip of coffee. "In reality, I wonder why the three of us are not all dating each other, in what you humans call a 'triad.'" He made finger quotes with one hand.</p><p>Dean started to choke on powdered sugar and dry donut. Cas hovered by his side, unsure of what to do, his hand just above Dean's back. Dean took a few gulps of scalding coffee, his throat burning but his airway relaxing. He took a few deep breaths, his lungs in pain as they reinflated. Cas stepped back, his relief fading back to feigned innocence.</p><p>It was clear that the question couldn't be avoided. "It's illegal," Dean said at last. "And wrong. You're not supposed to feel that way about your family."</p><p>"Up until a few centuries ago, this sort of practice was quite common," Cas said. "In many places, it is legal for family members to be in romantic and sexual relationships, so long as everyone is consenting."</p><p>Dean blushed, thinking about Sam and the question of consent. It was clear to him, at least, that there was something between them that couldn't be put into words. It made them each other's weakness, but also each other's strength. Without Sam, Dean was adrift. With Sam by his side, he was anchored, able to do anything. Not to mention that Sam aged beautifully. The scrawny kid that left for Stanford all those years ago filled out to be one of the most attractive men Dean ever knew. When he was pinned in Sam's dorm room, it was all he could do to not kiss Sam right then and there.</p><p>He knew it was guilty, and shameful. He also knew that, despite his many efforts, he wasn't able to stop.</p><p>"A lot of people use it to abuse their family," he said. "I wouldn't ever do that to Sammy."</p><p>Cas nodded. "The ways you humans come up with to hurt each other," he said. "It truly does boggle the mind. Even Lucifer could not be so creative."</p><p>Dean's smile was tight. "I wouldn't be so sure," he said. "According to Sam, he was creative enough."</p><p>Cas looked stricken. Dean turned his head away, a frown creeping onto his face. The smell of coffee and sugar had not dragged Sam from his room, if that was where he still was. Dean felt a stab of guilt and squared his shoulders. It was the least he could do to apologise. Cas followed him into the hallway, and they paused outside Sam's room.</p><p>"Sammy?" Dean asked, rapping his knuckles on the door. "Come on, rise and shine."</p><p>He trailed off as he opened the door and found it empty. The bed was untouched, and Sam's computer was open. Dean saw his phone on the bed and his eyes widened. Sam never left his phone behind, not after all of the times they couldn’t contact each other. They wouldn’t even leave without telling each other they were going. He expected to see Sam sitting at his computer, peering at some obscure bit of lore, ready to turn to him and Cas with an excited smile.</p><p>Dean’s mouth dried out, and he could hear the thunder of his heartbeat in his chest. Cas stood beside him, surveying the room, his nostrils flaring. He stepped inside, his head turning back and forth, as if he was trying to convince himself of something. Dean followed, caught in his wake, something crawling under his skin.</p><p>“Cas,” he said, and Cas held up his hand. Dean’s mouth snapped shut and he, instead, looked at the computer. It was on a news site, and Dean read it while Cas stood stock still in the middle of the room. The article was discussing a man that disappeared, and Dean slid into Sam’s seat. It was cold. He read silently, alarm mounting as he did.</p><p>
  <em>...when asked about the phenomenon, Carly Jones could only say that her brother was not like this before he disappeared.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He was a nice guy,” she said to this reporter, wringing her hands. “He would never hurt a fly. I just don’t understand what happened to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It seems as if Harold Jones, known as Harry to his friends, was the kind of man that would apologise to you if you bumped into him. He was known to be affable and gentle, getting on with everyone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“One day he snapped,” said one of Harry’s friends, who chose to remain anonymous. “I’ve never seen anything like it. He just - he leaped over the counter and slammed that guy’s head into the wall over and over until I could stop him. All because the guy asked him to repeat himself.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alarmingly, all over the country, these sorts of stories are starting to emerge. Normal, calm people seem to be losing their inhibitions and empathy. Could this be a sickness? At the moment, the CDC and the federal government have not made any announcements. This reporter, however, is not convinced these are just coincidences…</em>
</p><p>“What did you find?” Castiel asked, peering over Dean’s shoulder.</p><p>“An article,” Dean said. “What about you?”</p><p>Cas was silent, looking around again. His lips thinned, and he scrunched his face up in thought. “Nothing,” he said at last. “I thought I recognised something, but I believe it is just remnants of Sam’s own energy. You both have unique auras. What is the article on?”</p><p>Dean turned back to the computer, drumming his fingers on the desk. “A man who snapped,” he said. </p><p>“Could Sam have gone to look at this case alone?” Cas asked. “Would he have done such a thing?”</p><p>Dean winced, rubbing the back of his head. “He may have,” he said, gruff. “I—we had a conversation about his demon powers yesterday, about how they were coming back.”</p><p>“Maybe he took it upon himself to try and solve this, to show us that he’s still Sam,” Cas said.</p><p>“That’s stupid,” Dean said.</p><p>Cas frowned. “Do you disagree with me?”</p><p>“No, that—it would be stupid of him to do something like that,” Dean said, running a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t need to prove anything to me.”</p><p>“Does he know that?”</p><p>“Of course he does.”</p><p>Cas lifted an eyebrow. “Have you told him that?”</p><p>“I don’t need to.” Dean clenched his jaw.</p><p>“Dean,” Cas said. “You underestimate the bond that the two of you have. Wouldn’t you do anything to help Sam?”</p><p>“Of course I would,” Dean said.</p><p>“Then why don’t you think he'd do the same?”</p><p>Dean chewed on that. They both always did everything they could for the other, to the point of self-sacrifice. But Sam wasn’t an idiot. There was no way he would go by himself. Not unless he thought his demonic strength was enough to keep him safe. Dean paused at the thought, his imagination taking him down a terrible path. Images of Sam being killed by some ghoul flashed in his head.</p><p>If Dean could handle himself, he thought, would Sam have been safe?</p><p>“You said you thought you felt something,” Dean said, tearing himself from his self-loathing. “What did you think it was?”</p><p>Cas hesitated. “I’m not sure,” he said, strangely reluctant. “It feels like grace, but not like a grace I have ever felt. It was powerful, and dark. Grace on the verge of being something darker.”</p><p>“What does that mean?”</p><p>Cas blinked once, and then shook his head. “I don’t know, but it…”</p><p>He went still, his head tilted and his eyes narrowed. Dean watched as Cas’ eyes widened, looking like saucers. A tremble went through him, and he opened and closed his fists. Dean went into high alert, wishing he had his gun with him. Cas lowered his head and Dean pulled him close, burying his head in Dean’s shoulder.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Dean asked.</p><p>“Michael’s back in Heaven,” Cas said. “He wants to meet with you.”</p><p>The implications of that were like ice in Dean’s veins. His first thought was <em>how</em>, and that was soon followed by <em>Lucifer</em>. He shook his head, trying not to let the edges of panic hit him. It wasn’t working, and he was locked in a nightmare where Sam was gone and Lucifer had him again.</p><p>“Cas,” he said, and Cas nodded. He looked how Dean felt. “You don’t think—”</p><p>“No,” Cas said, his voice firm. “But Michael should have more answers. You and I can meet him, and together we’ll figure out where Sam is.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dean said, closing his eyes. “That’s a plan.”</p><p>A bad plan, he thought, but it was all they had.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much to my beta, Cestlestial-beings, for agreeing to beta this fic! &lt;333</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3: Castiel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Castiel and Dean go to meet with Michael, and Castiel ends up waylaid by an old enemy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for references to Castiel's past torture at the hands of Heaven!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Castiel stood at the edge of town, stretching his limited grace as far as it would go without straining it. Dean was standing before him, hands tucked into his pockets. To anyone else, he would look calm and disinterested. Only Castiel and Sam would be able to read the tension in Dean’s shoulders. Castiel extended some quiet reassurance to Dean and watched him relax. Dean shot him a small smile, and Castiel returned it.</p><p>There was a heavy feeling in the air, and Castiel straightened. He saw Dean take a deep breath and square his shoulders. In the near distance, Castiel could make out a figure. He squinted, using his true form to see further than his vessel could manage on its own. The figure approaching them was that of Adam Milligan, though the grace snapping around him suggested otherwise. Castiel stepped up beside Dean, whose eyes were locked on the approaching figure.</p><p>“This is the first time I’ve seen them since the field,” Castiel said, his voice rough. “The warrior of God.”</p><p>“The one and only,” Dean said.</p><p>He looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye. The tension in Dean’s shoulders was back, and Castiel was sure that any reassurance he could offer would not be enough to change that. He still placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean grasped it, his knuckles whitening around Castiel’s hand.</p><p>There was the sound of wings, and Castiel stiffened, alarm bells going off in his head. Since Metatron took over Heaven and cast down all of the angels, very few angels still had functioning wings. Yet the noise was unmistakable, and Castiel turned around to face the intruding angel. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest, painful and tight. He remembered flashes of blood-soaked hands, and drills going through his eye to the core of his true form.</p><p>Naomi stood before him, smiling, the light of it never meeting her eyes. Beyond her vessel, Castiel saw her true form turning, a many-eyed wheel of fire, and the brilliance of her six wings. His lungs burned, and he realised he needed to take in a breath before his vessel gave out. It scraped down his throat as he inhaled, and he became aware of Dean’s shoulder pressed against his.</p><p>“Cas,” Dean said, looking over his shoulder at the ever approaching figure, and back at Naomi. “Who is this? What’s going on?”</p><p>“Hello, Castiel,” Naomi said, ignoring Dean. “We need to talk.”</p><p>“No,” Castiel said. “I have nothing to say to you.”</p><p>Naomi glanced over their shoulders at Adam—Michael and flinched back. Castiel could see the fear in her eyes as she looked back at him. It did a lot to comfort him, knowing that she was as scared of Adam—Michael as they were. The angel blade up his sleeve pricked his skin, and the slight pain was a reminder of how far he came from being controlled by the machinations of Heaven.</p><p>“Please, Castiel,” she said. “It is about the other Winchester, the true vessel of Lucifer.”</p><p>Dean tensed beside Castiel. “You know where Sam is?” he asked.</p><p>Naomi turned to him. “I am permitted to speak to Castiel, and Castiel alone,” she said.</p><p>“Permitted?” Castiel asked. “Who pulls your strings, Naomi?”</p><p>She only shook her head and spread her hands. Castiel turned to Dean, his need to know where Sam was warring with his desire to protect the other man he loved.</p><p>“If it’s about Sam, you have to go,” Dean said, his smile quick and tight. “I can handle myself around Michael, Cas. Don’t worry about me.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Castiel asked, looking over at Adam—Michael. He was coming closer and Castiel could see the tendrils of light emanating from him, moving towards them at a taunting pace, ready to wrap and ensnare them. “I don’t mind making Naomi wait.” He glared at her.</p><p>She gazed back, placid and cool. “The longer you wait, the more danger the true vessel of Lucifer finds himself wading through.”</p><p>“His name is Sam,” Castiel ground out. “You will refer to him as such.”</p><p>“Does this mean you will talk with me?”</p><p>Castiel looked back at Dean, who nodded once. His hand was tight on Castiel’s shoulder, fingers digging in through the trenchcoat.</p><p>“Go,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”</p><p>“Call me if you need help,” Castiel said, stepping closer to Dean and pulling him into an embrace. “I will be listening for your prayer.”</p><p>Dean laughed and hugged him back before pulling away. “I’m not the praying type, Cas,” he said. It was a joke, but the words fell flat. Dean tried to smile, and that fell flat too. “If I need you, I’ll call. Promise.”</p><p>Castiel had to content himself with that. He turned back towards Naomi, who stood a few feet away, her hands clasped before her. As professional and distant as she always was, Castiel thought, his fury mounting. Behind it was the tingle of helplessness, his ragged and ruined wings a counterpart to her own health. He wondered how she managed that.</p><p>She held out her hand. “Come,” she said. “I will take us somewhere more appropriate to have this conversation.” </p><p>Castiel hesitated. He squared his shoulders and shoved down his insecurities, grabbing her wrist. Naomi’s eyes narrowed at the slight, but she extended her wings and flapped them once. In an instant, they were in a clearing. Castiel stumbled back, his wings flaring out in protest at the sudden movement. Naomi ignored his panic, waiting with her hands clasped again until he brushed himself off unnecessarily and stood straight.</p><p>“It is good to see you, Castiel,” she said.</p><p>“I wish I could say the same,” Castiel said.</p><p>“So do I,” Naomi said. She lifted her hand and Castiel took a step backwards. “May I heal your wings?” she asked.</p><p>“You have that power?” Castiel asked.</p><p>“With Heaven, anything is possible,” she said.</p><p>He stared at her, trying to read her motive. Naomi was as closed to him as she always was, her expression shrouded. He reached his grace towards her and she welcomed it with her own, wrapping it around his. It was warm and coaxing, and his desire to have his wings fixed surged. Still he hesitated, his body moving back and forth.</p><p>“What do I have to do in return?” he asked.</p><p>“This is not conditional, Castiel,” Naomi said. “It is a peace offering. If you allow me to heal your wings, I assure you that you will have to do nothing in return but accept.”</p><p>“Forgive me if I do not believe that,” Castiel said. The temptation was great, though, and he took a step forward without thinking.</p><p>Naomi waved her hand and her grace surged, blinding him. The damage on his wings began to reverse, feathers reforming from the torn shreds of his grace. Power flowed through him, and when the blinding light faded, he spread his wings and admired the glossy incandescence on his black feathers. A rainbow of colours winked back at him, ever shifting as the sunlight caught them from different angles. Peace filled him and he folded them against his back, sighing with a relief that he had not felt for the last year.</p><p>“Better?” Naomi asked.</p><p>There was a depth of understanding in her voice, one that Castiel would never be able to find with Dean or Sam. He nodded.</p><p>“Better,” he said.</p><p>“Good.” Naomi shifted. “Now we can talk.”</p><p>“You know something of Sam,” Castiel said. He tried to hide the eagerness in his voice and failed.</p><p>Naomi smiled, as if she could understand the depth of feeling Castiel had for Sam and Dean. “I know something,” she said. “Not much, and not enough, I fear, to gain your support.”</p><p>“What do you know?”</p><p>“I know where he is.”</p><p>Castiel twitched, his eyes widening. “Where is he? Is he safe? Is he hurt?”</p><p>“As far as I know, Castiel, he is not hurt,” Naomi said, sidestepping the other questions. “Yet.” She took a step closer. “I am permitted to tell you everything we know, but not without securing something from you in return.”</p><p>“So I was right,” Castiel said, displeasure coating his tongue. “Nothing with you is ever free.”</p><p>“Did God give anything to the humans without asking for something in return?” Naomi asked. “Conditions and deals have been a part of Heaven since its creation all those many millennia ago, Castiel. I am not doing anything that has not been sanctioned by Heaven.”</p><p>“Many things that were sanctioned by Heaven were cruel,” Castiel said. “Our Father, our brothers, and our sisters are not known for their mercy.”</p><p>“Mercy is why I am here,” Naomi said. “Heaven is willing to offer you mercy and absolution for your crimes, including the crime of striking an Archangel, defying the will of our Father, and the slaughter of our brethren. All you must do is return to Heaven, be the soldier that you were created to be, and Heaven will welcome you with open arms. You are our little brother, and though you have strayed from our flock, we do not wish to abandon you.”</p><p>“I have paid for those crimes, many times over,” Castiel said. “I do not need your absolution.”</p><p>“But you do not deny our mercy.”</p><p>“I deny everything you are,” Castiel said. “I have found my own personal flock with the Winchesters.”</p><p>Naomi sniffed. “Living in sin with the failed righteous man and his demon blood–infested brother.”</p><p>Castiel smirked. “I would rather live in sin with them than take anything you have to offer, Naomi.”</p><p>She regarded him, her cool exterior cracking. Through the fissures in her control, Castiel could see her frustration and worry. His own rose, and he felt cold at the possibilities of what could scare her. In all of their past interactions, she was as unflappable as an Archangel. It was a testament to what Dominions could do, if given enough free reign. As a Power, he was a lower rank than her, and held less power.</p><p>His time with Sam and Dean, and their love for him, taught him that power and rank were meaningless. Ingenuity, compassion, and will mattered more than anything else. Castiel straightened and spread his wings, allowing the force of his grace to fill them and make them glow. Naomi watched, and took a step back, her control over her emotions breaking. The fire of her true form blazed, and all of her eyes turned to lock on him. </p><p>He felt tall.</p><p>“I would do much for Sam, and for Dean,” he said. “As they would for me. Neither of them would forgive me if I took a deal from you, especially one that returned me to who I was before I met them.” He shook his head. “No, Naomi. I will not return to Heaven with you. Not now, and not ever.”</p><p>“Then your <em>boyfriend</em> will rot,” she said, losing all control over her fury. It lashed out at Castiel, and he took the brunt of it. “The true vessel of Lucifer will rot, and I will welcome your anguish, Castiel, over your foolish pride.”</p><p>“That,” Castiel said, “is the Naomi that I remember.”</p><p>She scowled at him and, with a snap of her wings, was gone. Castiel waited a few moments to make sure that her grace faded from the clearing. Only then did he allow himself a deep, cleansing breath, shuddering from head to toe. All the tightly clamped fear broke free, surging through him. He flapped his wings, transporting himself to the highest peak of the Himalayas, surveying the beauty of the natural world. It went a long way to calming him, and the cold, thin air was a healing balm. It no longer bothered him as much as it did, and he stretched his wings, awed at the feeling of being whole once more. Whatever power there was in Heaven to afford such abilities, he was grateful to it.</p><p>Alone, he turned his thoughts towards the feeling in Sam’s room. At first, he was under the impression that it belonged to Sam, but that wasn’t quite right. It was like grace, but tainted, foul smelling and oozing. Even at the height of his drinking demon blood, Sam’s power wasn’t foul-smelling, it was the warmth of sleep, the calm of surrender. It was a blank nothingness, the opposite of creation. Castiel shifted, his feathers twitching out of place and resettling.</p><p>He knew of what the lingering aura in Sam’s room reminded him. Admitting it was another thing entirely.</p><p>A ringing pierced the silence, and Castiel flinched, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the cellphone. Dean’s name was on the screen and he answered, lifting the phone to his ear.</p><p>“Cas,” Dean said, and Castiel felt relieved at the relative normality of Dean’s voice. “What did Naomi say?”</p><p>“She healed my wings, and then tried to make a deal with me for Sam’s location,” Castiel said. “She wanted me to rejoin Heaven.”</p><p>“Fuck that,” Dean said.</p><p>
Castiel laughed. “That is an accurate summation of what I said, yes.”</p><p>He could hear the smile in Dean’s voice. “Atta boy.”</p><p>“What did Michael say?”</p><p>“A fat load of nothing,” Dean said, his voice shaking on the words. “More bullshit about joining him.”</p><p>“Does he have Sam?”</p><p>“No. He offered me a deal too, to join him in order to get Sam back.”</p><p>“As you said, fuck that.”</p><p>“That’s what I told him.” </p><p>Castiel smiled, fondness settling in his heart. “Where are you now?”</p><p>“At the bunker, trying to find any clues to where Sam could be. I’ve contacted Crowley, too, just in case he knows anything. I didn’t hear anything back yet, though. Where are you?”</p><p>“The Himalayas,” Castiel said. “I needed space after my meeting with Naomi.”</p><p>“Right,” Dean said. “Well, will you come back soon? Could use our wingman. Literally.”</p><p>Castiel shifted, looking down at his feet. “I’ll be there soon,” he said, and hung up the phone. </p><p>It took all of his concentration, but with a flap of his wings, he travelled through the Earth’s crust, down into the depths of Hell. Lightning crashed around him, and he stared at the sight before him in dismay. </p><p>Crowley not answering Dean was a clue, as was the depth of Naomi’s fear. The aura in Sam’s room reminded him of an empty clearing, fire, and explosive pain as his atoms were ripped apart. It was the nightmare that he soothed from Sam’s mind every night they slept together, and it was the nightmare that plagued the back of his mind.</p><p>The cage that was meant to hold Lucifer and Michael was open.</p><p>And it was <em>empty</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Come be my friend at jackklineisperfect on Tumblr!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4: Sam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sam wakes up, and finds himself alone in a room. He's chained to a bed, and no one answers him when he calls out, until finally, a familiar face shows itself...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for this chapter include:</p><p>Assault (both physical and sexual)<br/>Blood<br/>Abuse<br/>Character death (though not real, it feels real to Sam)</p><p>Please let me know if you come across anything else, so I can warm people :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment Sam woke up, he knew he wasn’t in his room. The lights were too bright, the sheets were too soft, and the bed was too big. He sat up, rubbing his head, and took a look down at himself. He was naked, save for a collar wrapped around his throat. He ran his fingers along the rough leather, fingers digging into the plush underside that sat against his skin. It was a bright, spotless white with scales etched into the leather. Towards the sides and around the back were spikes that caught Sam’s hair and pulled it every time he shifted. There was a gold ring in the centre of the collar, and Sam looped two fingers through it, tugging on it.</p><p>The collar was a few notches too tight, but when Sam reached for it to try and loosen it, it burned his hands. He snatched them away, his breath harsh in the eerie silence of the room. The sheets under him bunched as he shifted, trying to find his bearings. They were soft and silken, a deep red colour, and all Sam could think of was blood.</p><p>There was no trace of mess in the room around him. The bedside table and dresser were free of dust. The mirror that stood across from Sam was gleaming. He looked at his reflection and saw the worry on his pale face. He scrubbed it and looked again, not looking any less worried. His hair seemed longer than he remembered, curling at the edges and reaching the tops of his shoulders. The slight beard he was growing was gone too, shaven away, and he suppressed a shudder at the thought of someone shaving him.</p><p>Wherever he was, he had to get back to Dean and Cas. He stood and heard a rattle. Something cool touched his bare chest and he looked down to see a chain connecting his collar to the bedpost. He was able to walk a few feet away from the bed before it pulled taut, sending liquid fire down his spine. Sam fell to his knees with a gasp, pressing his forehead into the cool tile of the floor.</p><p>The pain ebbed away, and he straightened, his limbs shaking. “Hello?” he called out. There was a slight tremor in his voice, and he cleared his throat to try again. “Is anyone there?”</p><p>No one responded. Sam sat back on the bed, sliding his fingers up and down the chain. There was an eerie familiarity to the way it felt. Not quite demonic, but not quite angelic either. Caught somewhere in between. He felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed around it. It wasn’t possible, he told himself. There was no way.</p><p>Time passed. Once or twice Sam got up, pacing back and forth to work off some of the energy that was building up under his skin. He was careful not to stray too far from the bed. After a few passes, he wrapped the sheet around his waist and tied it off with a simple knot. It gave him a modicum of modesty, at least, even if it did drag along the ground. Sam sat back on the bed and stared at the door, waiting.</p><p>He flinched when it opened and Crowley stepped through, holding a covered platter. Crowley was dressed simply in his usual suit and tie. There was no emotion in his eyes as he looked Sam over. The door closed behind him with a snick. They stared at each other for a long moment before Sam stood, his worry slipping away to anger.</p><p>“What the hell, Crowley?” he said. “What’s the big idea?”</p><p>Crowley set the platter down on the nightstand and lifted the lid. There was a rich, elaborate roast dinner with mashed potatoes and vegetables. Without a word, Crowley handed him a knife and fork. Sam stared down at them and back up at Crowley with raised eyebrows. Crowley looked towards the door and back at Sam, pushing the fork and knife against Sam’s chest.</p><p>“I don’t want to eat,” Sam snapped, throwing the utensils to the side. “I want to know why you brought me down here, chained me to a bed, and took away all of my clothes, Crowley!”</p><p>Crowley was silent as he walked to where the fork and knife fell. He was walking slow, his back hunched over, and Sam’s anger slowed. He watched as Crowley leaned down and picked up the utensils, bringing them back to Sam. There was real fear in Crowley’s eyes as he extended his hand, his gaze constantly flicking to the door and back. This time, Sam took the fork and knife and placed them on the plate. The look of panic in Crowley’s eyes began to ease, and he stopped glancing at the door. </p><p>“Okay,” Sam said. “Did you do this to me?”</p><p>Crowley shook his head.</p><p>Sam tried to smile. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”</p><p>Another shake. Sam tamped down his growing hysteria and nodded. Crowley stayed in the middle of the room, glancing at the plate of food and back at Sam. Sam followed his gaze and grunted, lifting the fork and taking a few bites of the food. It tasted like the best meal he ever ate, and that made him even more worried. With each bite he took, though, Crowley relaxed more and more, so Sam ate the entire thing.</p><p>“All right,” Sam said after the last bite. “Now. What the hell is going on? Where’s Dean? Cas?”</p><p>Crowley shook his head and took the plate, fork, and knife. He turned to go, and Sam’s breath caught in his chest. The thought of being left alone in this room, naked, was too much to bear. </p><p>“Crowley, wait,” Sam said, standing and heading over to him. </p><p>The chain pulled tight and he made a choked sound, falling to his knees again as the pain spread through him. Crowley paused and looked back at him with wide eyes. He started over and stopped as the door opened. A figure stepped through, wearing a white suit on his familiar frame. Crowley shrank away as the figure glanced over at him. Sam looked up into his own face, his blood freezing in his veins.</p><p>“Hey, Sammy,” his voice said to him as Lucifer spoke, cocking his head. “Did you miss me?”</p><p>“No,” Sam said. “You - you’re supposed to be in the cage.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” Lucifer said, looking around the room. “But then, poof!”</p><p>He slammed his fist into the wall and Sam jumped. </p><p>“The cage door was open, and I was free,” Lucifer said. “Lucky me, right?”</p><p>He chuckled, and Sam swallowed. Behind Lucifer, Crowley flinched and began to inch towards the door. Lucifer grabbed Crownley’s shirt collar without looking and dragged him forward, pushing on his shoulder until he went to his knees. Sam scrambled away until his back hit the bed. The pain vanished, leaving him with shaking muscles and a rising fear.</p><p>Lucifer stared down at him, smirking. It was Sam’s eyes that watched him stand, and it was Sam’s mouth that widened into a grin. Lucifer was wearing a pure white suit, unsullied by dirt or grime. It hung on his frame well, tailored to fit every line of his body. Sam flicked his gaze over it and back up to Lucifer’s face. The grin widened even more, unnatural in the way it cut from ear to ear.</p><p>“You look a bit skinny,” Lucifer said to Sam, and looked at the empty plate in Crowley’s hands. He sneered, and turned to Crowley, his expression hardening. “So at least you can do one thing right, you miserable cur.”</p><p>He lifted his fist to strike Crowley, and Sam turned his head away as the sound of flesh on flesh filled the room. Throughout the strikes, Crowley did not make a sound. Sam looked over at him and saw him cowering from Lucifer’s fist, blood dripping down his face. There were flecks of it on Lucifer’s knuckles. He readied himself for another blow and Sam forced himself to his feet.</p><p>“Stop,” he said.</p><p>Lucifer paused, looking over at Sam. He released Crowley and aimed a kick at his ribs, digging the toe of his shoe into Crowley. “You’re so kind, Sam,” he said, leaving Crowley on the floor and walking towards Sam. He stopped a few inches in front of him and let his gaze wander down over Sam’s body. “Sometimes, I think about us and I wonder - how were we matched off? You could have so easily been Raphael’s true vessel. He always was soft.”</p><p>“Let him go,” Sam said, looking towards Crowley.</p><p>Lucifer laughed. “Oh, if only I could. He pretended to take my throne, though. My throne!”</p><p>His last two words were slung at Crowley, and Lucifer turned blazing red eyes onto the demon. Crowley began to choke, scrabbling at the floor, his face going purple. Sam tried to race forward and the chain pulled tight, sending him to the floor for a third time. Lucifer stood over the two of them, his face twisted into cruel amusement. He crouched down close to Sam, carding his hands through Sam’s hair.</p><p>“Now, Sam, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Are you going to be a good boy, and go back to bed? I’ll explain everything. I’ll even let your precious Crowley go back to his work.”</p><p>Sam nodded, gasping for air. Lucifer helped him to his feet and guided him back to the bed, sitting him down. With a wink, he snapped his fingers and the sheet around Sam’s waist disappeared. Sam jumped, covering himself with his hands, his eyes going wide. There was nothing hiding him from the intensity of Lucifer’s gaze now, and it roved over him, drinking in his defenselessness. Sam curled away from it, drawing his knees to his chest.</p><p>Lucifer shook his head. “Since when have you gotten shy around me?” he asked. “There’s no need to hide. I’ve already seen everything you have to offer.” </p><p>He stroked Sam’s cheek before turning back to Crowley. Lucifer lifted Crowley by his hair, shoving him forward until he was on his feet. Crowley looked at his feet, hunching his shoulders. Lucifer pointed to the door and Crowley left, the door slamming behind him. Sam swallowed, rubbing his palm over the collar around his neck. The small motion drew Lucifer’s attention and he smiled, coming to stand in front of Sam.</p><p>“I’m sure you have some questions, Sammy,” Lucifer said. “I’ll give you some answers if you ask nice and pretty.”</p><p>Sam forced his breath to be even. “Is Dean alive?”</p><p>Lucifer scoffed. “Is that the only thing you care about?”</p><p>“Is. Dean. Alive?”</p><p>Lucifer examined him for a long moment. Sam stared back, his chin tilted in defiance. It was like he was staring in a mirror that refused to follow his movements. Lucifer’s eyes were not glowing at the moment, so they were a perfect reflection of Sam’s, except for the cruel humour that danced within them. Lucifer let out a long and exaggerated sigh, looking towards the ceiling. He put his hands in his pockets and jutted out one hip.</p><p>“Dad,” he said, drawing out the word. “You really fucked up when you made this one, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Lucifer,” Sam said, balling his fists. “Is Dean—”</p><p>“No,” Lucifer said, his expression falling flat and cold. “I took great pleasure in ripping off his head. Then I went after your pet angel, Castiel.” He smirked, the lines around his eyes never crinkling. “I never knew my little brother, but I doubt our Father would have appreciated him soiling himself with humans.”</p><p>Sam stopped listening, feeling the words cut through him like a knife. He shook his head once, then again, standing. Lucifer lifted his eyebrows and stepped closer, smoothing a hand along Sam’s neck. The touch made Sam’s skin crawl, and he curled his lip, slapping the hand away. Lucifer waited a long moment before backhanding Sam, sending him crashing back to the bed. </p><p>Sam spit blood onto the white suit. Lucifer looked down at the red spot tarnishing his suit and wiped it away with a wave of his hand. Then he grabbed Sam’s hair, fisting it, jerking Sam’s head back. Sam bared his teeth, and Lucifer’s hand twitched. Instead of striking Sam, though, he lifted it and stroked down Sam’s cheek and neck, lingering over his collarbones. Sam’s breath hissed out through clenched teeth.</p><p>“You can’t have killed them,” he said, jerking away as much as Lucifer’s grip allowed. “You don’t have a body, and I sure as hell didn’t give you permission to enter mine.”</p><p>Wrath passed over Lucifer’s face, shoved away a second later. “You would be surprised at what I can do, when I’m at full power,” he said. “But you have no reason to trust me. So let me show you.”</p><p>He pressed two fingers to Sam’s head, and Sam gasped, arching his back. Images streamed directly into his mind through the link, and he saw what Lucifer saw. </p><p>
  <em>He was asleep at his desk, cheek pillowed on keys. He was lifted and carried, bridal style, in Lucifer’s arms back down into Hell and into the room. Then Lucifer went back to the bunker, walking through the halls as if he owned them. When he rounded a corner, he came face to face with Dean.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said with a smile. “What are you doing up?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I could ask you the same thing,” Lucifer said, using Sam’s voice. “It’s late.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean said, looking away. “Thought I would make some coffee, or something.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Would you like help sleeping?” Lucifer asked, stepping closer. “I can make sure you never wake up again.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dean glanced at him, his mouth falling open. Sam could see the way Lucifer’s eyes glowed, reflecting in Dean’s eyes. Dean made to shout, to push Lucifer away, and Lucifer grabbed his head, twisting. Sam screamed into the void of memory as Dean’s head was severed from his shoulders, blood and viscera dropping to the floor with unpleasant squelching noises. Lucifer dropped the head and made a face, kicking it away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dean?” Cas’ voice called, and Lucifer turned his head to watch Cas walk into the hall. “What - you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lucifer smiled and twitched his hand. An archangel blade appeared, and as Cas strode towards him with a thunderous expression, Lucifer turned and slid the blade between Cas’ ribs, up towards his heart. Castiel stopped, slumping over the blade, blood trickling from his mouth. Lucifer blinked, and Sam saw the incomprehensible form of Cas’ angelic body, shifting heads and a myriad of wings. It was going grey, the blue light that lit it from within disappearing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sorry, little brother,” Lucifer said, pushing Cas to the ground and cleaning the angel blade on his trenchcoat. “Can’t have you interfering with my plans again, can I? And I have so very many for our Sammy.”</em>
</p><p>The vision dissipated, and Sam wretched, his dinner coming back up in a grey torrent of bile and acid. Lucifer groaned and waved his hand, making the sick disappear. Sam wiped the back of his mouth and looked up at Lucifer, his eyes welling with tears. Lucifer grinned and crouched down, coming eye level with Sam. He reached out and touched just under Sam’s eye, wiping away the tears.</p><p>“Come now, Sam,” he said. “I promised I would take good care of you. So no crying, all right? We’ll have fun here.”</p><p>“I don’t want your kind of fun,” Sam said. “I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch.”</p><p>Lucifer sucked in air through his teeth. “See, that isn’t going to fly anymore,” he said. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, sweetheart. In fact, I think I want you to call me master.”</p><p>“Go to Hell,” Sam said, sneering through his grief.</p><p>“Oh, we’re already here,” Lucifer said, and his hand passed through Sam’s ribs, reaching into his soul. </p><p>Sam shouted, the pain wracking through him unbearable. Lucifer lowered his mouth to Sam’s ear, their chests pressed together. Through the torment, Sam could hear Lucifer’s words, pitched low and thrumming through him like fire.</p><p>“You belong to me, Samuel Winchester. You are my vessel, and my property. You will say yes to me, and we will be one. Until then…” He twisted his hand and Sam screamed, his body rigid with agony. “I think you and I will get close. Very, very close. You will do as I say, because if you don’t, I will make sure your entire existence is on the threshold of agony and pleasure, little pet. When I say jump, you’ll ask me how high. And when I say that you will call me your master, the next fucking words out of that pretty little mouth of yours better be, ‘Yes, master. What can I do for you, master?’”</p><p>He removed his hand and Sam gasped, broken and shivering on the bed. Lucifer put his hands on Sam’s thighs and slid them up, red eyes glowing.</p><p>“You will call me your master, Sam.”</p><p>Sam shuddered, wetting his lips. He would escape. He would find Dean and Cas, and bring them back. It was all he had to cling to, and he did so with all of his remaining strength.</p><p>“I’m waiting, Sammy,” Lucifer growled, his nails digging into Sam’s thighs.</p><p>Sam winced, and licked his lips again. “Yes, master,” he said. “What can I do for you, master?”</p><p>Lucifer smiled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
<p>Any antis leaving comments will be deleted. This is not the place for your rhetoric.</p>
<p>Find me on Tumblr @ phoenn and say hello!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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